


Exit Wounds

by Achilleid



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Bittersweet, Corpo V (Cyberpunk 2077), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, Friends to Enemies, May/December Relationship, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Spoilers, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achilleid/pseuds/Achilleid
Summary: Leaving Night City behind, V embraces the nomadic lifestyle of the Aldecaldos while continuing her search for a cure that could extend her life expectancy from six short months. Takemura Goro has also left Night City behind, having chased V across the desert in an effort to take revenge for the death of Hanako Arasaka, who perished during the Nomad organized assault on Arasaka Tower.When his plans for revenge fail, V and Takemura are left right where they once started. A dying thief and a disgraced soldier, with as much in common as they lack and an improbable bond that holds them to one another.
Relationships: Goro Takemura/Female V, Goro Takemura/V
Comments: 45
Kudos: 289





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place post-canon from the Nomad ending! For those who don't know, any ending besides the Arasaka ending results in Hanako dying when Alt takes over Arasaka Tower. Takemura, as expected, is not happy about that.
> 
> This fic also speculates that some aspects of Johnny's mannerisms, habits and memories remain ingrained within V, giving her some of his more "charming" personality traits at times.
> 
> I plan this fic to be no more than five chapters! But that could shorten depending on how long subsequent chapters are.

They’d picked up a tail somewhere around the border. Whomever it was, they were skillful and cautious, but even still the Aldecaldos were able to lose them in a sandstorm across the Mojave. After a few weeks, it seemed that maybe they had even died out there in the hot sands.

Panam had taken V to a few experts, people who had done work for the family but so far, there had been little more than additional pills to take. She was swallowing a pharmacy every morning just to keep blood out of her mouth, but the worst of the seizures were under control and well— there was still time. Six months Alt had said, but maybe more. One had already passed and V felt  _ better _ . 

Well. Physically at least. 

Inside her head things had changed, for better or for worse, was an academic argument that V hadn’t the time to ponder. She had, god forbid it, gotten  _ used _ to having Silverhand in her head. The lack of Johnny’s familiar presence in her mind had left a strange sort of…  _ loneliness _ in her. A feeling that wouldn’t leave her, a gnawing sensation that something was  _ missing _ .

She had Johnny’s memories still and her own of him, though it did little to console her. She sat on the dusty fender of one of the trucks, rubbing a smudge from Johnny’s aviators, one of the handful of tangible mementos she kept of the old rocker. The sun above was already searing hot, the heat like a burn on the back of V’s neck.

“How far out did you spot um?” Mitch’s voice cut through her thoughts and V squinted against the bright daylight up at the two younger nomad drivers, Fiona and Tiger. They’d been sent out on a water run, returning from the nearest town several miles out with gallons full to keep the Aldecaldos going further across the desert.

“Cut us off. Started a fire fight. It was fuckin’  _ dicey _ , Mitch. We got lucky. Fiona clipped him and then his hood. Whole ride started smoking and then died under him.”

“Was it Arasaka?” V asked, replacing the aviators over her eyes.

Tiger and Fiona shared looks and then with a tentative nod, Fiona answered in the affirmative.

“We think so. He moved like a damn one man army, even with how fucked up he seemed.”

“Fucked up?”

“The guy was a monster, but it was like… I dunno. Like he was hurt?”

“Never corner a wounded animal…” Panam offered cryptically from where she sat alongside V, shooting her a worried look.

“Wounded animals got nothin’ to lose,” V said in agreement, then got up with a sigh, “You said you shot him? His car broke down too?”

“Yeah, probably right where we left um… you want us to go back, Panam? Make sure he dropped?”

“I’ll tag along. Hitch over with you both.” V said, Panam frowning at the suggestion, “I could jack in, find out what info he has got. I know Arasaka, Panam, I’m the best to check it out.”

“You don’t need my permission, V—”

“But?”

Panam scowled, turning her eyes to the other Aldecaldos and jerking her head to the side in a silent  _ scram _ . They left, Mitch stayed, crossing his arms.

“The guy is toast. Why not just leave him?” Panam said, a sigh in her throat, “I dunno. I don’t like this, V. Arasaka hasn’t made a peep since we left. Thought we were keeping under the radar…”

“Clearly not.” Mitch said with a shrug, “And he  _ might _ be toast. Or he mighta had back up. He might be on his way back to the NC to give up our location. We should make sure he is flatlined, if anything.”

Panam was the head of the family now, her word given final weight of law, but more often than not they had worked together as a sort of “council”. Panam was still getting used to Saul’s absence, an empty void that no one attempted to fill, because no one could ever do so. She looked to V and Mitch for guidance and right now it was obvious in the way she worried her bottom lip and flashed a look up and down V that she wished Mitch had agreed with her.

“You’ll keep outta trouble?” Panam said and V couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“I’m already dyin’, what other shenanigans could I get up to?”

Panem scoffed, clearly not liking the answer.

“Ugh, just be safe! Come back in one piece... or this shitty ass trip has been for nothin’.”

This was what having a family was all about though. Caring. Scolding. And now that she had it, V wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not for all the eddies and fame in Night City.

“Be back soon then.” V said, meeting back up with Fiona and Tiger with a short wave behind her.

* * *

It wasn’t a long drive to the spot where they had tangled with the possible Arasaka soldier and that actually genuinely worried V. They’d gotten close. Too close.

“There it is, can you see?” Fiona said, pointing her cigarette towards the ever larger growing mass of grey smoke.

“Pull off up here… Fiona, you stay with the car and I’ll take Tiger with me. You hear shots or us hollerin’ you peel outta here and go get the others, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it.” Fiona flicked ash unto the sand as she pulled the car up slowly to the patch of dried red earth, hidden in the shadow of a high rock and threw the gear into park.

Tiger followed V out, his rifle at the ready as he hung back a few steps. V had Johnny’s— no,  _ her _ pistol. It was strange how well it fit in her hand, a perfectly balanced weapon that she loaded and readied with the familiarity of one who had used it for  _ years _ , not a few short weeks.

The remnants of the enemy jeep were still burning, fire crackling faintly from beneath the blackened and smoke streaked hood. The thing was already doomed before it took a few good shots to the metal, the paint peeling from the sides everywhere from overexposure to sunlight and rough sands. It was a junker, not exactly the kind of thing an Arasaka soldier would drive.

V came up around the drivers side while Tiger kept back, rifle ready for long shots. No one seemed to be in the car. V checked the handle with the back of her hand, feeling only the heat from the sun on it. She opened it quickly, hand going back to hold her pistol ready as she checked the passenger seat and back. 

No one.

Frowning, she noticed blood on the driver’s seat, smeared across the old cracked leather. The trail continued on the ground, darkening the already caked red dirt with splotches. Any rations or water the truck held were taken and whomever was driving had begun to  _ walk _ , following the tire tracks Fiona and Tiger had originally left behind.

V felt her blood run cold as the depth of her mistake fell on her.

“Tiger! Turn ‘round, get back to Fiona!”

“W-what?” the young man sputtered, gun up and ready as the panic in V’s voice clearly showed through.

“Get back to the damn car!”

V broke out in a run, leaving him behind as she tried not to let her heart surge with panic. Her eyes caught the blood trail on the ground… making its way to the same rock, the only place of shade, where they had parked the car.

By the time V was back in the shadow of the dark rock formation, her fear was confirmed.

Fiona was out of the car, her eyes wide and fearful and her hands behind her head as the man behind her pointed a gun to her temple.

A man whose cold, mechanical grey eyes cut right through V’s chest and threatened to suck the breath from her lungs.

Takemura’s lips twitched into a smile that was more sneer than anything. Surprise registering just for a moment on his features, or maybe it was more like shock.

“The very woman I have been looking for.”

Tiger had been right. Takemora  _ was _ a mess. Even without the gunshot wound bleeding sluggishly at his side, his usual immaculate bun was loosened, strands falling across his sun-scorched face, darkening his already warm complexion with deep reds.

He was indeed a wounded animal, a wounded wolf, snarling and ready to take its prey with it to the grave.

V brought her hands up, holding her pistol out and quickly ejecting the clip and then the bullet in the chamber. Carefully, she set the pistol on the ground.

“A wise choice.” Takemura said, accepting her silent surrender.

“Let her go, Goro.”

“You  _ insult  _ me.” he spat, Fiona crying out as his grip tightened and jerked at the back of her neck.

“Fine! Fine—  _ Takemura _ . Let her go. You came out here for me, yeah? Don’t need the kid.”

“What is one more life to you, V? You already have so many to answer for.” Takemura said, but despite his words, his grip relented on Fiona, “I am here only for  _ one _ . One that mattered most…”

Takemura took the gun from Fiona’s belt, tossing it far off into the dirt before shoving Fiona away from him impassionately.

“Do not move.” was all he said to Fiona, his eyes never leaving V’s. Takemura staggered forward. He tried not to let the pain show, but it was obvious he had lost too much blood. He wouldn’t survive that wound without help, but something in his eyes made V think… he didn’t  _ intend  _ to.

V didn’t run, didn’t even struggle as he reached out and grabbed her throat with a hand, sticky with dried blood. He dragged her in close, close enough that she could smell the smoke on his clothes and feel the heat of his breath.

A quiet seemed to come over him, an almost peaceful stillness. His eyes were half lidded as he looked down at her, his hand moving to hold the back of her neck more gently, almost in an embrace as the other held the pistol close to her head.

“... you should have left me to die that da-”

Takemura’s words were cut off with a strangled cry of pain as Tiger’s rifle thundered and a shot grazed over his shoulder and tore fabric and flesh from him. The impact was enough to throw Takemura off balance, giving V enough time to force him back onto the ground, scrambling for the pistol in his hand.

It was a dirty fight— more of a scuffle than anything as blood loss and dehydration seemingly had already sapped the former Arasaka bodyguard of much of his strength. V did him the favor of knocking him across the head with the butt of his pistol before he could get up and risk another shot from Tiger. Somehow, V felt the younger man wouldn’t miss the second time around.

Tiger clamored down from the rockface, rifle still up and ready for another shot.

“No! He’s down! Don't shoot, he's down!” V hovered over Takemura, shielding him from Tiger’s barrel.

“I missed um, V! Fucker still breathing.”

Fiona had scrambled up from the dirt, rubbing away the clean spots where her tears had made trails down her cheeks.

“Yeah and he’s gonna stay that way, alright? Just… just check on Fiona and get the damn car going. We’re taking him back to camp.”

“V, what? No. No, no way. We can’t take some Arasaka spy back with us!”

“He ain’t Arasaka.” V said behind clenched teeth, straining to haul up the dead weight of her former partner in crime, “Eh… hey, help me here will ya?”

Tiger stared, dumbfounded as his rifle went lax in his hands.

“Look, we need to know what he knows. We can do that better somewhere safe and with him not leaking to death so  _ help _ me get him in the damn car.”

* * *

If V had thought Tiger and Fiona put up a fuss on the drive back, she had not fully imagined how Panam would react. V wondered to herself if Saul had ever yelled at Panem this way before, because it certainly matched the kind of ferocity she had seen between the pair.

“Are you listening to me, V?!”

_ How could you miss it? _

V’s inner voice, which sometimes still sounded a lot like one Mr. Silverhand, provided in his deadpan voice. It was an imagined voice, but it still brought a smile to her lips as V let herself indulge in the fantasy that he remained with her.

“Jesus… _completely_ ignoring me.  _ V _ . You brought an Arasaka spy  _ to the camp. _ We can’t let him go now! Our best bet is to put two in his skull and burying him in a sand drift and hope his friends don’t come looking!”

“No one is gonna come lookin’, Panam. He’s former Arasaka. Outcasted. Exiled— whatever you wanna call it. He doesn’t got any back up. They don’t even know he is here and would kill him as surely they would any of us.” V said, leaning back in one of the camp’s creaky metal folding chairs.

Even in the firelight it was easy to see the lack of faith in Panam’s expression as she paced around the firepit, raking her hands roughly over her face.

“Former Arsaka, current Arasaka. Shit, V, you think that matters? I got a half dead highly trained killer in this camp who wants to off you.”

V shrugged.

“Oh my  _ god _ , you are impossible!”

“I’m the only one he is a danger to, so I don’t know why—”

“Do  _ not _ finish that sentence. You know damn well why.”

_ Still managing to piss off everyone, I see. _ Fucked off to the furthest outer reaches of the net and Johnny’s words still somehow played in her head. 

“Sorry.” V said with a grumble, resting all four legs of the chair back to the ground, “He might know something. And if he does or doesn’t, we can just patch him up and drop him at the nearest town.”

“Oh, yeah. Real nice, V. So he can come after us again?”

“I’m not gonna kill him.”

Panam sighed— well. It was more like a half assed hoarse yell from the back of her throat, but V thought she meant it as a sigh.

“... Tom manage to fix him up at all?”

“Yeah… yeah it looks like he had one shot of Bounce Back left. Kept him from flatlining when he took that hit to the side. He was already healin’ up. Bullet was through and through. Tiger only managed to graze him. Kid got nervous or else your old friend wouldn’t have a face right now.”

Panam crossed her arms, still fidgeting from side to side.

“That ain’t even his worst problems. Guy probably hasn’t eaten in days and his water ran out long off too. This… well. I don’t think he was planning on going back to NC.”

After a moment, V stood, rubbing both hands up behind her neck and then back down with a groan.

“I don’t think so either.”

“You… gonna see him?”

“You got him restrained?”

“Yeah, V. He’s in and out. Was delirious for a bit, but they managed to get some water in him. V… he’s in a bad way.”

“...s’my fault.” V said, words a half mumble, “You heard on the radio. Our plan got Hanako Arasaka killed. I… didn’t want that, but Alt had her own plans, ya know? Christ, at the time I didn’t even think to know, I was just trying to keep alive.”

Panam shook her head, “We lost people too. Saul. Teddy. Bob. … fuck, nearly lost more. You didn’t know Alt was going to stage a hostile god damn take over. He can’t blame you.”

“He will.” V said, her voice quiet, “I… I’ll try to talk to him. At least keep him from doing anything stupid thinking we got plans to flatline him.”

“Yeah, just… be careful, V. Like I said. The sun does weird bullshit to your head out in this place.”

V only nodded, gripping Panam’s shoulder just briefly as she passed towards the tent where they were keeping Takemura.

* * *

Two armed nomads were outside the tent while another two had been inside while Tom, a former ripperdoc and current nomad senior, had worked on Takemura. The three had left to give V some space, but the other guards remained outside nearby.

Takemura was laid out on one of the cots, his ruined shirt cut and stripped from him, leaving him bare from the waist up except where bandages were wrapped tightly around his middle and then up around his shoulder and back. V had always seen the exposed trace of chrome that wrapped around his neck and along his jaw, but now she could see where cyberware traced across his bare arms and lined one side of his ribs. Their purpose, V couldn’t say, and most likely, they didn’t work anymore given Takemura’s burned status with Arasaka.

The rest of his body was, at least by appearances, organic. Smooth olive complected skin over toned muscle. Takemura’s face gave away his age. The lines on his forehead and around his mouth indicated years of deep thinking… or deep scowling, but otherwise he had kept himself at peak condition. A work requirement no doubt of being a top Arasaka bodyguard.

His breathing was sharp, but steady enough. His eyes were closed, but a grimace rested permanently across his features even in sleep.

V pulled up a chair, turning it backwards as she straddled it and leaned her arms against the back frame.

“... you look like shit, man.” she said, not expecting an answer. She didn’t get one either, not a vocal one. Instead she got the faint clatter of metal against metal as Takemura moved and the cuffs holding his arms to the bed rattled against the frame.

She had flinched at the sound, embarrassing herself.

His eyes opened, the pale grey like moonlight slicing through darkened clouds. He looked hazy, drugged up… his eyes looked over at her with only the vaguest recognition.

“... V?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I am… not dead. A disappointment.”

“Sorry— you were hoping we’d put two in your head while you slept?”

Takemura made a gruff sound that V took as an affirmative.

“Would have made it easier.”

“Uh huh, you know they got hotlines for this kinda thing.”

Takemura groaned, “I remember. You said same thing in Night City.”

“I’m sure someone in camp would be happy to help you out if you try shooting me again.”

Takemura went silent at that, turning his eyes upwards towards the top of the tent with a deep frown. Like he was remembering something he had, for a moment, forgotten.

“I will kill you, V. For what has been done.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with Hana-”

“ _ You insult her by speaking her name _ .” his voice was harsh, pain straining the words as he tried to sit up and found himself unable to bear his wounds.

“...I’m sorry, Takemura. I didn’t— it wasn’t— I didn’t want  _ anyone _ to get hurt… I was dying. Like literally in that moment fucking  _ flatlining.  _ I did what I had to try and sever that relic from my head and… and that AI did what she wanted.”

“You let it  _ in _ . It turned systems against Arasaka. Hanako-sama— Hanako-sama was  _ shredded _ by hacked mech units. Beyond recognition! And you tell me you didn’t know? You knew it would be nothing good.”

“... when I was there, when Alt took over… she was only attacking soldiers who attacked us. I don’t know what happened with Hanako-sama, but—”

“And now I have told you what happened to Hanako-sama.” Takemura said, his words clipped, “Get out— better still, let me die having done my duty.”

V swallowed thickly, rolling her lips together before she said quietly, “I’m not gonna do that.” 

Takemura did not respond. He shut his eyes, as if he refused to even give V the dignity of looking at them. His brow was tight, pained and yet still grimly determined. 

There were things she still needed to ask him— did Arasaka know where he was? Did he still plan to bide his time and kill her? V felt her heart throb at the very idea that this man who she had trusted, had worked with, had  _ saved _ her… now utterly hated her.

He had sent her one message after she had left Night City, standing among the rubble and ruin of Arasaka Tower.

_ Rot in hell,  _ _ クソ野郎 _ _. _

In all honesty, the way he had spoken, the things he said… well, she hadn’t expected to hear or see him again. V had done with that knowledge what she did with most things… hit delete on the message and then buried it in the back of her thoughts with Jackie and the other countless people she had let down. These things were all just part of the sins she figured she would pay for in six months when her body finally succeeded in killing itself. A part of her had even wondered if the agony of that, the pain of each seizure, the waking exhaustion, nausea and memory loss… if her suffering could tip those scales even the slightest. Make it  _ even _ . 

_ Just another fairy-tale dream.  _ Johnny’s voice scoffed in her imagination.

Maybe suicide was still his intention, but it was obvious now to V the  _ means _ of that demise had changed. Takemura couldn’t get Yorinobu now, but he could get  _ her.  _ The one who had promised to help him gain his revenge and then denied it for him forever.

V stood and quietly left through the tent flap, barely giving an appreciative nod to the guards out front as she staggered off to her own tent, feeling sick from the faint throb that had begun to pulse in the back of her neck… from regret. From guilt.

Her vision cut, lines of static racing across her sight and making shapes turn into nothing more than incomprehensible blurs. V felt the world shift and jerk from side to side, the ground rising up to meet her as she tripped over her own feet and fell with a thud to the dirt.

Even laying there, voices of alarm tuned out and far away, faces blurred and unidentifiable, V could feel the churning turning sensation as the Earth spun slowly through space. Falling, through silent cold space.

Like Jackie, like T-Bug. Like Johnny.

Like all the dead that had come before her. 

Breathing deeply, V curled her fingers into the red sand, and held on.

_ Not yet, V. Not yet. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say in the notes! Though I did write a bit of this chapter in Takemura's point of view. I will probably make some effort to switch to him sometimes. The intention is still for this fic to be not overly long because I have a bad habit of writing 100k word fics and then abandoning them at the last chapter so the hope is NOT to do that.
> 
> Some tag updates too.

The first awareness was that of light. Warm and bright behind his lids. The second awareness was _ache_ . Persistent, _painful_ and sharpened to a razor’s edge at every small movement.

Takemura begrudgingly accepted consciousness, finding the will somewhere inside him to open his eyes and look towards where the offending ray of sunshine was being allowed in.

The tent flap was being held open, just a sliver, and a pair of soft brown eyes, large and doe like in the middle of a tan-skinned face stared at him with interest. She had full round cheeks, youthfulness in every aspect of her cherub like features. The child froze as their eyes met, but slowly she smiled, a dimple in each corner of her mouth.

> _It was the height of spring, when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom and their petals scattered over the still pond in the gardens of the estate. Small pink ships, sailing endlessly on the vast sea._
> 
> _Takemura was twenty-nine, three years dedicated already as an elite Arasaka soldier and known for his discipline, his dutifulness and his loyalty. When he did not pace the nearby halls, or stand at attention near Saburo-sama’s side, he was allowed to sit kneeled on a small mat on the wooden floor. His hand would remain on one hip, poised over his katana and another over his gun, his eyes sharp and his cyberware readings keenly attuned to every person who may move within the family halls._
> 
> _It should have been a point of great shame for him then, that the tiny stumble of socked feet did not catch his attention until he found before him a small girl, her cherub cheeks puffed with a smile. She held up a drawing, or rather, scribbles upon paper in varying shades of black and red and tanned peach, all forming together to make a familiar silhouette._
> 
> _“Taka-san, I drew you!”_
> 
> _In his duty, Takemeru was not to engage with others. He was meant to be as the room, as furniture or a tool left out. A knife on a table. What he was not meant to do, was speak to Saburo-sama’s three year old daughter. She was Saburo-sama’s joy, his greatest treasure, a child he doted on and who went everywhere at her father’s side._
> 
> _Takemura looked to him now, for guidance, he told himself, but the look he gave Saburo-sama was more aligned with pleading._
> 
> _“My daughter has presented you with a gift, Takameru. Be polite.” his master said without another glance, turning his attention back to his tablet._
> 
> _Hanako waited patiently, expectantly. Takemeru found it difficult to even bring the words forth, his tongue sluggish and thick from so long hardly speaking much at all._
> 
> _“Thank you, Hanako-sama. It is… lovely.”_
> 
> _She beamed, her smile drawing wider until a tiny dimple dotted high on her cheek. With insistence, she held it out for him and with equal amounts of hesitation, Takemeru took his hand from his blade and slipped the paper from her hands._

A voice called out a name, the sound hazy and muted on Takemeru’s ears. The girl turned, answering the call without looking back, leaving only the sway of dropped tent flap to ever prove she was there at all.

Takemeru let his eyes drift back closed, trying to recall the lines, the colors of the drawing. He had kept it, folded and safe beneath his armored vest for several days… but where did it go? What had he done with it after? It had been eighteen years since the blossoms and yet the few months he had spent alone, masterless and exiled, felt so much longer.

The tent opened again and Takemura groaned when the light flashed into his pupils.

“Morning.” a voice spoke, the man who had sewn up his shoulder and his side coming to sit near the cot Takemura was still shackled too. The man, too his wisdom, kept a good distance between them still.

“Is the pain bad? We scrounged up some MaxDoc to help take the edge off if you’re needin’ some.”

Takemura did not reply.

“Also need to change your IV. Sometimes the old ways are the best ways when it comes to saline and good ole H2O…. unless you’re feeling up to drinking some water?”

Water. The very word drew Takemura’s attention to how dry his throat was, how paperlike his tongue felt against the roof of his mouth. _Water_ . His body pleaded to his mind. _Water._

Takemura nodded, short and curt.

“Great. Hold on— “

Takemura watched the man as he moved around the tent, doing a good job still of keeping out of arm's reach. As his eyes traced his movements, he noted a change to the room.

There was a second cot set up at his other side.

In the second cot, was V.

Takemura felt a snarl build up near his teeth, a look of disgust and outrage ready to mar his features… until his eyes caught up with his emotions.

V looked terrible. _Worse_ than terrible. Her skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, greyish and clammy. Her breaths were short and slow, as if her own lungs were too tired to make more of an effort. Some strange band was attached around her head, monitors fixed to her temples as a nearby computer beeped and monitored large spikes and numbers that made no sense to Takemura.

The doctor caught him staring as he returned with a cup of water. Takemura sat up as best he could manage, unsurprised when the doctor called in another to stand guard with a gun in their hand while he held the cup for Takemura to drink from. He was not to be unrestrained it would seem, though his prey lay but a scant few feet away.

“Another seizure. Hit her hard. Been out as long as you now, but… well. We’ll see what happens.”

Takemura frowned, “‘What happens’?”

He cursed himself for speaking, but the words were out before he could catch himself.

“If she wakes up. Every time it seems she has one it takes longer and longer… one day I figure she just won’t.”

V had succeeded in removing the relic, had rid herself of her demon and in doing so had thought to free herself from impending doom… and it had all been for nothing. Saburo was dead. Hanako was dead… and V was still going to die.

Takemura refused food when offered and drank only a little, the pain of his wounds a welcome distraction for the turmoil in his chest. 

He never would have thought nomads would have such tech available to them, but in the large tent there was enough equipment and cases to fill a small clinic. This man is what Takemura could only imagine was their version of a ripperdoc, but he didn’t have to worry about the man trying to invoke his sympathies towards V for long. A young woman entered the tent and the ripperdoc gave her a respectful nod.

“She good, Tom?” the woman asked and Tom nodded, “Okay. Take a breather.”

She shrugged toward the tent entrance. Tom frowned, but he didn’t argue, getting up and exiting the tent and offering Takemura a quick view of the guards outside. They were still present. Not a good tactical advantage.

The woman set her fists on her hips, eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him with dark brown eyes. She has no visible cyberware to speak of, but it was common for Nomads to reject enhancement, at least in his limited experience.

Takemura, despite his feelings, spoke politely enough.

“I am Takemura Goro. If V has not already informed you.”

The woman looked a bit taken back by his easy words, but after a moment that surprise resumed an expression of suspicion.

“She did. Now you wanna tell me how you found us? And who else knows where we are?”

Takemura frowned, “It is considered extremely rude not to introduce oneself. Even to enemies.”

The woman’s face flushed red down to her neck and her teeth set against the inside of her cheek. She had a short-temper, but also a position of authority and respect given how the ripperdoc had so easily relented to her requests. She was a leader, but a potentially weak one, Takemura set that information aside for later.

“You attack my people and you wanna school me on manners, Corpo?”

“...You have someone I want.” Takemura stated, a simple reasoning for why the young Nomads he encountered were threatened.

“Too god damn bad. Now who else knows where we are?”

Takemura fell silent again, a sigh held back in his throat. V stirred slightly on the cot nearby, drawing both of their attention to the other woman as she flinched and jerked slightly in sleep. The monitors sped for only a moment and then slowed again, whatever neurological event passing quickly.

The Nomad woman’s expression had broken apart quickly from one of stubbornness and annoyance to worry… colored with affection and _familial_ concern. She cared for V. She cared for V very strongly. That would complicate any attempts of persuasion or negotiation, but then again, Takemura had not considered those to be strong tactics to begin with.

The woman looked down at her boots and then, curtly spoke, “I’m Panam Palmer.”

“It is good to meet you, Palmer-san.” Takemeru said, but his words were filled with polite detachment that would make it quite evident even to Panam that they were simply a platitude.

“How did you find us?”

“Simple reconnaissance. I visited towns. Spoke to people. It was difficult for several weeks, but then…” Takemura paused.

“Then?” 

“You and your people became lazy.”

Panam sucked in her cheek again, but controlled her emotions.

“Are there others coming?”

“No.”

“Wow… I mean, _wow_. Didn’t expect you to just offer that one up.”

“I have no reason to lie. My purpose is simple. You and your people are responsible for the death of one I held in utmost regard and respect. I am duty bound to end the life of the one who commanded it.”

Silence followed the end of his words, the steady beeping of the monitor filling the room. Suddenly then, Panam scoffed out a laugh and Takemura jerked his head up to glare at the young woman, forgetting himself.

“Jesus christ… you Corpo’s are really crazy, you know that? You’re ‘duty bound’? By who? You aren’t Arasaka. You aren’t anything. You come here and try to kill my _sister_ because of some deluded belief you owe a buncha criminals and psychopaths? Who don’t _want_ you?”

With each word her volume increased, the look of revulsion so prominent on her features that even if she had chosen not to mince her words, her distaste would have been clear. Negotiation it would seem, was not a viable option.

Takemura felt her words, but only in that they stoked a growing tension edging through his limbs and fueled a gnawing want to snap this crude woman’s neck. He let his anger stream out from his chest and into his hands, clenching them a bit tighter to try and relieve some of the pressure his growing anger exuded. 

“This is what is gonna happen,” Panam began, her voice having grown colder, “We’re gonna dump you out on the sand with a quart of motor oil and a pistol and take bets on whether you shoot yourself before or _after_ the thirst makes you crazy enough to drink it.”

The image was certainly— vivid. The sadism of such a statement catching Takemura slightly off guard.

“ _Wow._ ” said a voice instantly recognized by both of them as _V’s_ , “I mean, that is one _stone cold_ line. I think I’ll steal that.”

* * *

“Shit, V-- you need me to get Tom?” Panam had all but forgotten about Takemura, moving around to V’s cot to try and prevent the other woman from getting up.

“No.”

 _Yes._ An indignant Johnny-Silverhand-induced auditory hallucination said quietly in the back of her mind. Maybe one day she’d get lucky and forget what the guy sounded like, then her head-voice would go back to just being _her_ voice.

More importantly, she was nauseated as all fucking get out and Panam’s hand on her arm was doing a great job of making V feel a bit more grounded. She heard a faint click, the sound of someone chidingly clicking their tongue against their teeth and looked up to see Takemura had turned from them both, staring pointedly at nothing. But it was nothing _away_ from V.

“No execution by desert, aight?” V said, lulling her head back towards Panam.

“Sure. Fine. Execution by bullet works just as well.” Panam said, shooting Takemura a dirty look that went unnoticed.

“Talkabout it later.” V said, only slightly slurring her words as she pulled the band off her head and peeled the monitors off a moment later. The computer made an alarming noise and V had a funny feeling it was becoming quickly overcrowded and overly loud for the former Arasaka bodyguard.

“Got an idea to make _everyone_ happy.”

Takemura’s interest had been piqued. V caught him casting a look out of the corner of his eye at her.

* * *

_What the **fuck**_ _, V._  
  
Panam's voice still rang in her head, rolling around in her ears and in her skull and fueling an oncoming headache. For once, the voice didn't sound like Johnny though and maybe that was a good sign.

Of course Panam would hate the plan. But in the end, it wasn’t her choice. It wasn’t her _life_ and although it had gone over about as well as V expected, for now, things were set. When she came back inside the tent, Tom had provided Takemura with an old t-shirt, the design on the front so faded it was barely more than a static of print. 

His hair was down, which shrouded the grey near his temples and made him look somehow… younger. Less stiff. The look in his eyes though had not changed. Steel resolve and hardened granite. He had built a wall between them and V could hardly blame him for it… in the end, she hadn’t kept her end of the deal. But then again, she was still right where she was at the start. Sick, dying and Arasaka’s most wanted. So he could hardly say he kept up _his_ either.

“Option one,” she began, “I’m dying. So honestly, killin’ me at this juncture would be a relief from what I got coming for me. It’s gonna be slow. It’s gonna be awful. I’m offering you front row seats to watchin’ my body slowly eat itself alive.”

Takemura’s eyes narrowed.

“I know what you’re thinkin’. ‘But you’re lookin’ for a cure’. We are. Which brings me to option two. We let you stick around while we look. If we find one and I get fixed up? You get your pistols at dawn or whatever. Get the satisfaction of knowing you got to kill me when I’m not already dead. Hell, not gonna lie. You killin' me after all this bullshit and then _after_ I save my life too? That would be... well, I’ll give you a genuine fight for my life. If that’s what you want.”

V shrugged, “And you’ve already heard option three.”

“These options require me staying with this caravan for an unknown amount of time.”

“Six months, actually. Or five rather. So yeah. Five month wait..”

“How do I know they will not kill me before either of these things happen?”

V grinned.

“I asked them nicely.”

“Why?”

Her smile faltered.

“Why not pick option three for yourself?” Takemura said, offering the most practical and simple solution. The one she was sure right now, if they were in reverse situations, he would take.

It was a good damn question too. And V was certain she had a good damn answer half a second ago, but now with Takemura staring at her, grey eyes shrewd and with just a flicker of uncertainty… shit, seeing him at _all…_ it made the words sound so ridiculous.

“I told you I didn’t mean for what happened to happen. I owe you, for a lot and this is the only way it’ll… sit right. For us both, I think. You don’t seem the type that would get much satisfaction outta killing me how I am now.”

V laughed, a nervous bubble of sound as she turned her eyes away and picked at a frayed thread on the knee of her pants.

“Also...guess cause we were friends once I feel like I should give you some closure. Not somethin’ I’ve gotten much in life, but welp. Here is my chance to give some.”

“...You wish to die with some honor restored.” Takemura’s voice for once held no trace of disgust, no edge of hatred. His voice was quiet, resigned. _Understanding._ It was not a tone V had ever thought to hear again from the man.

“Yeah, sure... if you’ll let me.”

Neither of them met each other's eyes. Two people, staring holes into opposite sides of a tent, as if refusing to acknowledge one another would somehow make them _feel_ less. 

“It is two options, not three.”

V looked up at the remark.

“Option one is, remain to witness your death or be the cause of it should you recover. Option two is motor oil and pistol.”

V held back a smile just _barely._ How could someone remain this pedantic even when discussing such a morbid topic?

“I accept option one.” Takemura met her eyes, only briefly, “I am patient man. I can wait.”

“Plus it gives you time to actually heal and then say fuck it and off me in my sleep or something.”

Takemura wrinkled his nose, “I could ‘off’ you now if you’d like.”

He pulled up his arm, revealing that at some time during all this chatting and debating he had gotten out of one of the cuffs.

Takemura casually used his other hand to put his thumb back in its socket, finding it impossible to miss how V did a full body shudder at the sound.

“Hard pass.” she said, still cringing.

“I will honor my word,” Takemura said, easily making work of the other handcuff and tossing it aside. He flexed his fingers, bringing them up to begin pulling his hair out of his face. V, for some reason, felt compelled to avert her gaze. It felt weirdly intimate, like she was watching him undress. Takemura brushed his fingertips over his wrist, frowning to himself before letting his hair go, falling back around his shoulders.

“You need a scrunchie?” V asked, unable to stop the small smile from forming at the corner of her mouth. What could she say? Johnny had tried to kill her once and she forgave him. Her standards were never exactly high. And a part of her, a small hopeful part of her thought maybe there was still time to make _something_ right before she died.

 _Wrong city for happy endings._ Her inner voice chided in Johnny's flat tone. But they weren't _in_ Night City anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

If there was one thing to be said about the nomad’s it was this— they were built for their environment. It was not the kind of thing one was born with however, but something learned. Despite the easy manner and relaxed nature of the families within the camp, there was an undercurrent of discipline, of responsibility. 

Children rose and did their chores without direction. Adults went about their daily tasks, working together to make what supplies they had run as long as possible and what supplies they were missing were gathered.

A group of younger people, the girl and boy from Takemura’s first meeting with the nomads among their number, were preparing for a hunting excursion. The caravan had not lingered long where they stopped to let V and himself rest, the jeeps gathering up along with the very impressive Basilisk and heading north, away from the desert.

From snippets of conversation, Takemura was aware they were headed to Utah now. Specifically, Salt Lake City. Like most major cities in the world, there was an Arasaka presence there, specifically prioritizing research and development. No doubt another lead to try and recover whatever lingering effects the relic had on V, resulting in her still dying.

Takemura had thought perhaps it was a ruse at first, but he had witnessed first hand her taking nearly a dozen different pills and inhaler treatments to keep herself going. Despite these struggles, she had her own set of tasks among the nomad’s, tinkering and breaking down old scrap parts or components and repairing water purifiers or weapons… V had always been handy.

He lived now as her shadow. Her ghost. It was almost like being a bodyguard again, which suited Takemura just fine. It was strange to keep someone alive for the sole purposes of later killing them with your own hand, but he found it was better if he didn’t dwell on these things and thought only of his mission. Of the task at hand.

However, the nomad’s would not suffer a useless mouth to feed.

V shoved a scrubber brush and a pan of an oily water like substance towards him. The sun glinted off the surface, creating rainbows. She used her own brush to vigorously clean off a part for one of the jeeps, working out carbon build up and sand in equal parts.

She had oil up to her elbows already.

“S’not real water. Fake bottled crap. Works just fine though.” she said, speaking to herself given the fact Takemura had made a point to stop speaking all together.

Another easy task. He had spent a lot of his life not talking.

He took up the brush, thankful now V had found something for him to tie his hair back with so he would avoid splattering any more of the foul fake citrus smelling liquid on himself. He watched V’s hands and then immediately replicated her movements, cleaning the grit from the cylinder.

“Sand is rough on the rides, but usually we got enough condensed air to clean it up in a jiff. Ran out a few days back though so now we gotta do the ole fashion way… not a big deal… some of these valves were getting guh-rose.”

With no other sounds but the wind, he didn't object to her speaking. There was something familiar about it, the one-sided banter and prattling. It helped keep his thoughts occupied when they drifted from the task at hand at the very least.

* * *

The only reply V got in turn was the sound of bristles against metal as Takemura dutifully and carefully mirrored her in cleaning up the valves. Nearby, Mitch and some other guys were working on the rest of the car. Typical day of maintenance. Panam had opted to go off hunting with the others. She said she felt like “shooting something”... V could only  _ imagine _ why.

They had a sparse group of coyotes hassling the livestock, something Takemura had been stunned to see. With the long journey ahead, the family had to get a fresh supply of milk and eggs somewhere. Most people didn’t realize just how  _ extensive _ the nomad caravan’s could be. The Aldecaldos were like a small town on wheels. People tended animals, baked bread, worked on rides and there was even a school where the kids would huddle around under a big tent and learn their times tables and ABC’s. 

Such a group was gathering now, twenty or so odd kids rushing from their chores towards the school tents in a gaggle of loud laughing and playful shrieks. The sound of bristles stopped.

V looked up and saw Takemura had turned, eyes fixed silently at a small girl standing nearby. She scooted her feet against the sand shyly, smiling at Takemura until V could see her dimples and her two missing front teeth. 

The motion was jerky, uncertain, but Takemura slowly rose his hand towards her, the one that held the bristle, and waved.

The girl broke out into giggles, waved back and skipped off.

For a moment, V thought she saw him smile… but it faded like a wisp of smoke, something else taking its place. Something far away and sad. That too disappeared quickly, leaving Takemura with an expressionless mask as once again the air filled with sounds of scrubbing. He drug the bristles over the metal harshly, his brow furrowed tightly.

V wanted to ask,  _ are you alright? _ But she knew. She already knew.

* * *

V was happy to say goodbye to the sand and heat, the sight of patches of grass a welcome thing after spending so long in the dry lands. It was still all the “bad” lands, though V could hardly find anything bad about the mountains in the distance or the rushing of a river, mostly still untouched by pollution or the city’s other vicious claws purely because of its remoteness.

Takemura’s presence, despite having been with the caravan now a few weeks, was not so much welcomed as it was tolerated. He either inspired hesitance or downright avoidance, but none of this was helped along by his silent, grave demeanor. He spoke to no one. He did as asked, if asked anything. He ate, sparingly and he slept… or at least, V supposed he slept. Even now the four original guards took it in turns, watching over his tent, making sure he didn’t creep out in the dead of night.

Killing an entire caravan of people was not his style though, even in a pursuit of revenge. V knew, in a fundamental way that she knew the sky was clear blue and the river wet and cold— Takemura would keep his word. She supposed that should have frightened her, filled her with dread, but in the past few months death had been so often around every corner that being threatened with it again felt less like— well, a threat, and more like  _ Tuesday _ .

V’s lack of fear or concern, if Takemura noticed, he said nothing about. Granted, he said nothing most days. V supposed that would only make sense… she was responsible for the death of someone he held dear. She figured she’d feel the same way towards whomever had pulled the trigger that spit the bullet out that got Jackie.

The one voice she wouldn’t have minded in her head, and yet Jackie was always mum in her thoughts. Sometimes she still called the number. Left messages, like letters in bottles, sent out into the endless sea. Maybe someday someone would intercept them. Read her words and the names and know them only as strangers in a puzzling, sad story.

V pushed around the food on her plate. A canned synth-fish and rice that, with some seasoning courtesy of Mitch, wasn’t half bad. The sun was low on the horizon, sinking behind the distance shadow of mountains, shooting a line of orange and reds across an otherwise purpling sky. Higher up stars were even becoming visible.

The fire cracked, popping loudly as Cassidy tuned his guitar and people spoke in a soft murmur around the camp. Even in the faded light, she could see past the other to the edge of camp, facing off a steep hilly incline.

Takemura stood there, back to them.

V knew her company was unwanted. That her words, more than anyone elses, probably grated on him. Despite this, she picked up her plate and another one not yet touched, and ventured over.

The sounds of the camp fell away, blotted out by the wind that fell over the rocky grass lands. Takemura stiffened at the sound of her approach, looking out the corner of his eye until she came into view. His posture relaxed a fraction.

“Dinner?”

V offered him the plate with a knowing smile. Takemura’s…  _ particularly _ regarding his food was something she had not forgotten. That’s what happened to Corpos. Got too used to  _ real  _ meats and unprocessed vegetables. 

“Gotta say, I’ve had the real thing and… synth fish is  _ far _ superior.”

Takemura made a half-choked sound of disgust and disbelief, his lips parting to refute her before he caught sight of the sneaking smile on V’s face and closed his mouth tight.

“You skipped lunch already. Barely ate breakfast…” V murmured, sighing as she carefully balanced both plates in her hands and folded her legs beneath her, plopping down unto the ground.

“Not gonna be much of a fight if you get scrawny, Gor—” V stopped herself, “... sorry. Forgot.”

Takemura however, did not even speak to scold her. He kept his eyes fixed on the faraway mountains, his aura not  _ annoyed _ but definitely edging towards exasperation. V used her fork to spear a piece of fish and popped it into her mouth, followed quickly by a forkful of rice. She almost lost the whole bite on the ground.

Takemura made another nearly  _ pained _ sound at her fumbling.

“I know, I know— ‘V, you should use chopsticks! Chopsticks are the civilized way to eat rice!’” she mimicked his voice, accent and all, speaking with a rasp from the back of her throat.

“Yeah, I agree. But we don’t  _ got _ any.”   
  
V switched voices, “‘I would rather starve than eat such plastic sawdust. Join me. It will take far less time than five months!’”

“If I sit down and eat, will you  _ shut up _ ?”

The sound of Takemura’s voice nearly made her jump, the older man scowling down at her with open frustration. As if to answer him, V silently held the plate up towards him. After a long terse moment, Takemura jerked it away from her and sat down on the ground a good foot and a half to her side.

He picked at the fish with his fork, flaking off bits of synth meat with a scowl. Regardless, he gathered up some rice carefully and a piece of the fish and ate it with a grimace.

“Tasteless.”

“You’re  _ tasteless _ .” V shot back, holding down a laugh.

“ _ V.” _

The was an edge of warning to his voice. The bristle of a cat's hair on the end of it's back before it struck. When had V ever been one to take heed of warnings though?

“What? I’m a dead woman, so we can’t talk?”

Takemura did not answer. V  _ hated _ the look on his face. The emotionless, cold, clear marble expression that gave away  _ nothing _ except that she was shut out. An enemy. An outsider. God dammit, she hadn’t even meant for Hanako to fucking die! This was a bad idea. Takemura was right to keep silent, she was getting that now as she speared her fish viciously with her fork and stood up.

“There is little to talk about.” Takemura said, his voice quiet, “... you could have gone to Hanako-sama. She would have helped. I  _ told _ you she would help.”

V visibly deflated, her legs suddenly feeling like molten lead, rooting her to the spot.

“... I wish I could have believed in her as much as you did. But… Takemura, how can you still believe in them? After what they did to you?”

“Did… to me?” Takemura bit out the words, his fist clenching around his fork. He set the plate down roughly, standing up and encroaching upon V’s space so rapidly, she took several short steps backwards before remembering there was an  _ edge _ to consider. It wasn’t a long drop, but it was a  _ steep  _ one.

“Took me off the streets? Fed me. Taught me. Made me something  _ worth _ being? You people… all so eager to bite the hand that does nothing but provide order. Purpose. Though I suppose it is too much to think a thief would value  _ duty.” _

V threw her plate to the ground with a clatter, the plastic like material not giving her the satisfaction of breaking. She surged forward in turn, shoving Takemura back with the heel of her hand.

“ _ You _ people? You forget? I  _ was _ one of  _ your _ people. Arasaka counter-intelligence. All my life. Arasaka parents, Arasaka grandparents— an entire lineage of corpo rats, eager to pick up whatever crumbs fell from Saburo’s table.”

She inclined her head, “Sound fuckin’ familiar?”

The attack that followed was unexpected, but in hindsight, shouldn’t have been. V easily dodged the wild, emotional strike, directing Takemura’s force to the side and intending to send him floundering to the side. He, however, had other plans. As Takemura fell he snaked out his arms and tackled V down with him.

Instinctively, she rolled, trying to get atop her opponent— and shrieked with surprise as she sent them both teetering off the ledge of the steep hill.

The initial thud knocked the wind from Takemura, the inertia sending her fumbling under next, a rock smacking between her shoulder blades. Takemura struggled to enclose around her, pulling her tightly against his chest. When his hand cupped behind her neck, fingers lacing protectively over the delicate space where her spine connected to her head, V suddenly realized he was not continuing their brawl… but  _ protecting _ her.

They hit the bottom of the hill in a heap, a low groan escaping V’s lips as she felt every bruise and scrape on her arms, back and legs. Takemura wheezed, but his grip remained true until V struggled, wiggling free from his arms.

Something wet ghosted over her fingertips and V noted with a worried gasp that Takemura’s stitches had ripped on his side.

“Let go.”

“Takemura you’re— hold still, you’re goddamn bleedin’.”

“ _ Let go!” _

He sat up, fiercely grabbing her by both wrists and giving her a sudden jolting jerk. His teeth were clenched, his eyes sharp and  _ alive _ and vivid with…  _ pain _ . Not from his wounds. No, this was deeper. This made V’s skin break out into goose bumps and her heart sputter an agonized beat in her chest.

Takemura came back to himself, the viciousness fading once again. V wanted to reach out, to grab it, to bring it  _ back _ . Anything but this silence, this indifference… she understood anger, understood yelling and fighting and punching out the glass of a bathroom mirror after washing the blood of your  _ best friend _ off your face.

She wanted to give that to him. She wanted to—

“... this is really fucked.” she said, her words a harsh breath, “This whole thing. It’s fucked.”

Takemura’s grip loosened, letting her slip away if she wished. She didn’t.

“Listen... I  _ loved _ Jackie. Like. Loved him. He was my family, my best friend. After Arasaka dumped me, my real family cut me off. Cut me out.” she laughed, bitter and mirthless, “Fuck...It was— it was  _ always _ like that, ya know? Everything was conditional. Had to be the best in school, at work, at everything. The moment I wasn’t a good little girl anymore they ignored me. Pushed me aside. Then finally just flat out discarded me.”

V swallowed thickly, tasting the blood from a split lip in her mouth and wishing beyond all hope that Takemura would look at her… but as she spoke, he silently stared at her throat, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Jackie and his mom… I had nothing.  _ Nothing. _ I was  _ nothing _ and they  _ wanted _ me. Panam. Mitch. All of these guys. I have barely anything to give them besides trouble and wasted gas miles and they  _ want  _ me. It’s not a waste. It’s never a waste.”

V wasn’t sure when it became her hands gripped around Takemura’s, but it had and she was holding on fiercely, as if he were trying to pull away instead of relenting to her touch.

“Takemura. Honestly?  _ Fuck _ duty.”

There was a commotion above, small rocks kicking down over the grass and cracking across the dirt as several nomads skidded down the face. Some had pistols in hand. V guessed that would be expected given what they’d seen.

V hissed a curse between her teeth, reluctantly letting go of Takemura and wincing as she quickly got up and waved them down.

“S’okay! Everything’s fine! Just… took a tumble.” 

She groaned, rubbing a hand over the spot on her lower back that would most likely be black and blue by tomorrow. Takemura remained where he was, silently looking again towards the far mountains, silent. Stone.

V offered him a hand to help him up and felt her heart ache when he refused to acknowledge her. He did not move until two nomads came upon either side of him and forced him up. Panam came into V’s view, blocking her sight of Takemura as they led him away roughly.

“Oh my  _ god _ — are you okay? Jesus… when you fell over I thought… I thought that was  _ it _ . He took his fuckin’ chance, he took his fuckin’  _ chance _ and you were gonna be dead.” Panam’s voice wavered, her hands brushing aside V’s hair and then rubbing dirt from her cheek. V gave a soft sigh.

“Oh—, shit, wait. He pulled his stitches!” V abruptly yelled after the two men. Takemura lifted his head just slightly from where he bowed his chin to his chest, staring at her with an expression that one could only call… hollow. As if someone had reached in and scooped all of Takemura out and left nothing else behind. V suddenly missed the cold expressionless look he had worn for all these past days.

“Take him to Tom, please.”

Turning back to Panam, the other woman stared at her with open mouthed shock.

“V,  _ no.  _ This is over. We’ll drop him off at the next town or something if you want him alive but—”

“He didn’t attack me, Pam.” V said tersely, “I uh… fell. Got up too fast and just— whew! Head rush. Toppled over and uh… well yeah. He tried to catch me and we just sort… fell.”

Panam looked about as convinced as V’s third grade teacher when she tried to tell him the rude kid’s synapse link to the classroom had shorted out all on its  _ own _ .

“Protecting his investment and all, ya know. Gotta make sure I’m alive and kickin’ yah know. Until the deal is up.”

“... V. Are you  _ positive _ —”

“Yeah. Yeah, positive. Get him fixed up. Was an accident. Won’t happen again.”

It was a lie probably, but V didn’t know it was a lie  _ yet,  _ so in her opinion, it still counted as an honest promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this chapter verily quickly but I don't often!! Enjoy for New Year's everyone!!!


	4. Chapter 4

The barely budding trust that had formed between the nomads and their reluctant guest had evaporated in a single moment. Two armed guards now followed Takemura, as he in turn followed V… albeit from a distance.

Takemura took care not to be alone with her now. V supposed she should have been relieved, but the feeling that burned and scratched inside her chest felt far  _ far _ from it.

The days of travel had sometimes blurred before, even in the few weeks V had been with the nomads. She had a schedule, a routine, something that V was not unfamiliar with, but something she had shed the same day she shed her corpo title, money and connections. Getting it back felt like some piece of her life had been returned, albeit much improved and with far less sneaky knife-in-the-dark bullshit.

Routine with the nomads was domestic, and while Takemura no longer assisted her in doing maintenance and repairs, he sometimes would break away from his shadowing to help someone carry a large crate or a water jug and other menial tasks.

It didn’t take much guessing to come to the conclusion that Takemura was feeling, in short, quite useless. As much as he remained keen upon his task, he wasn’t exactly the kind of man to sit back and allow others to take care of him. It was just difficult to convince Panam or Mitch or  _ anyone _ to give him an official “job” around the camp when everyone was still trying to wrap their head around the idea of  _ why _ they were harboring someone who might become V’s future murderer.

V had told Panam to spin it as some fatalistic weird last-request bull. A way of settling old scores. Some of the nomads understood that, but most didn’t. Panam herself included.

It wasn’t until Takemura’s eyes met hers for scantily a moment that she realized how openly she had been staring at him, watching him tentatively pick up and offer a heavy carton of something-or-ever to one of the women unloading a new batch of goods from an open jeep. The woman hastily took it from him, eyeing him with uncertainty for a moment before she gave a tight smile and a nod of gratitude.

Takemura in turn gave a short bow, and then his head had lifted and turned, eyes seeking her out.

There was almost a moment of relief in his expression, everytime he looked away and then turned back to find V still within sight. V could only think he must have spent a very tedious amount of time finding her… it was only natural to be relieved your quarry had not found time to duck out and escape you across a land you were unfamiliar with and surely would probably not find her again.

V would be lying if she said she hadn’t considered it, but there were doctors to see and leads to follow and while she struggled to live, there wasn’t much time for a race around the badlands.

She was staring. The realization fell on her, thoughts scattering out as she hurriedly looked away and walked off towards Mitch and their makeshift “garage” for the Basilisk. He needed an extra pair of hands and given how touchy the thing could be, V was on call as well as Panam whenever the thing so much as gave a tiny sputter.

* * *

It was near dark by the time they had finished up. V rubbed her hands as clean as she could with a blackening cloth, noting that the clouds were catching the bright lights of Salt Lake City in the near distance. They would be in the city itself by early tomorrow. Around them, the mountains surrounded the landscape, cradling it in it’s protective embrace, holding the city within it’s stoney hands.

V kinda liked the mountains. It was better than the endless brown and red flatlands outside Night City. Though none were as impressive or as striking as the peak of Mt. Fuji she had once glimpsed on a journey through Japan what felt like a lifetime ago… something about them filmed her with a calm. And any calm was welcome with the storm that ebbed and flowed in her head.

She grimaced, pressing her thumb between the center of her eyes and holding a groan back in her throat as her display warned-— RELIC MALFUNCTION, in neat small red font. The damn relic wasn’t even in her head anymore, but her cyberware defaulted to the same old warning. Her eye short circuited, spiraling static through her vision and V very quickly sat down on the ground to save herself a fall should the seizure come on too fast.

She slipped her hand into her back-pocket, finding the baggie she folded up with the emergency omega blockers inside. 

_ Four should do it. _

What happened to the good ole days when one was enough? V couldn’t remember the last time anything less than three or four pills made her head stop throbbing. She swallowed them down dry and waited.

It was a common enough site that no one immediately came running to her aid, which was something V was grateful for. The glitches stabilized and with a sigh, she carefully stood up, feeling the sharp pain fading to a small throb.

And that was it. A near daily occurrence. She went back to wiping grit out from under her fingernails and looking up at where the lights blotted out the encroaching stars without missing a beat.

This was the new normal. Her normal.

_ Get used to it, kid. _

V made her way to her own tent, tossing the rag onto a heap of components and parts on her work bench outside and ducking into the solitude of her own space.

Said solitude was short lived, as someone abruptly followed in after her. She had expected Panam or Mitch, but instead found herself staring at the furrowed face of Takemura… and the puzzled ones of two Aldecaldo scouts.

“Um… I think you boys can wait outside.” V said, gesturing her finger around in a circle to clearly illustrate her desire for them to  _ turn their asses around _ — they only hesitated for a moment, shooting each other looks, but ultimately going back outside.

Takemura stood in the center of her “room”, hands clasped behind his back and his face looking like some mix between a child caught in the cookie jar and someone who just ate a bad oyster. V tilted her head curiously as she sat down on the edge of her cot and shucked off her Aldecaldo jacket.

“... I must apologize for my behavior. I allowed my emotions to guide me. I should not have struck out at you.”

Ah. So that is what he was sore about. He, honest to god, almost looked  _ embarrassed _ , but a soldier of his control and caliber back at Arasaka  _ should _ have been embarrassed by that display the other night. If V were still a corpo asshole, she would have said as much, but instead she nodded, accepting the apology silently.

“S’my fault too. I know you want to kill me and I baited ya. Pretty dumb move.”

Takemura’s eyes narrowed, “‘Want _ ’ _ has nothing to do with this.”

V’s hands froze as she was in A the middle of unlacing her boots, her head slowly turning up towards him. Takemura bristled visibly by whatever expression she wore. V couldn’t be sure herself, because her head had suddenly shot off a mile a minute at those seven words.

“... you  _ don’t _ want to kill me?”

“It is a matter of duty, not want. I must uphold my duty.”

“There you go with that fuckin’ word again…” V grimaced and gave a sharp kick, sending her boot flying across the tent floor until it stopped, striking loudly against the side of a storage trunk.

“Jesus… god, it would be better if I thought you  _ wanted _ to do this. Knowing it’s just some performative bullshit for a dead guy just....” V paused, pressing her lips into a grimace, “It  _ pisses  _ me off.”

Takemura remained silent, whatever temper he had the previous night more tightly under control today. He wouldn’t repeat the same mistake, which  _ sucked  _ for him because that only emboldened V further.

“He won’t know, Takemura. You know that right? Who is going to care? Who would know if you chose  _ not _ to keep being their loyal servant anymore?”

V kicked off her other shoe, resting her arms on her thighs and glaring at the floor. You’d think as a former Arasaka she’d  _ get it _ and in some ways she did. If Takemura were  _ still  _ Arasaka she’d understand even more and that understanding is what had led them to this agreement they were in in the first place. But understanding didn’t mean she had to think it made  _ sense _ .

Quietly, his voice nearly lost in the sounds outside the tent and the growing night around them, Takemura spoke. Each word strained, nearly disappearing in a rasp at the last syllable.

“ _I would know_.”

V let it settle over her, let the words roll around in her mind and replay in her ears as the full meaning of them sunk into her thoughts. She hummed, pressed her lips together and let the silence hold place until she found words to pick up again.

“You would know… but you don’t have to  _ care _ . Know it, Takemura. Own it. Throw it in their  _ face _ .  _ Defy _ them. Live your own goddamn life and stop pretending somehow the end of mine is gonna suddenly make shit better.”

V swallowed hard.

“It fuckin’  _ won’t.  _ And I’m worried, cause I don’t know what you’re gonna do when I’m gone. If this is all you got ridin’ on for you, I don’t know how you plan on livin’ in this—”

“I will not.” Takemura stated simply, voice unaffected and distant. He was putting up those walls again, blocking himself from her and getting lost in the way that disheartened her almost made her miss what he had said.

“You won’t what?”  
  
“I will not live.”

“... absolutely the fuck not.” V said, the words coming unfiltered and unbidden from her tongue, “No. Fuck that, _ no _ . You aren’t gonna kill me then  _ flatline _ yourself you stupid asshole! You’re gonna move on! Stay with the nomads, join other nomads! Whatever! You’re gonna have a goddamn life  _ away _ from this Arasaka bulltshit cause once I’m dead you’e gonna be  _ free _ and that is the only fuckin’ reason I agreed to this crap in the first place!”

Takemura let her outburst continue and did not even pull away when V stood and got directly in his face. Not even when V shoved his chest to emphasize her words, trying to bear them down into him with force if he refused to listen.

“... I will not, V. Such things… they do not exist for people like me. I told you before—” Takemura almost smiled, a wistful and small thing, “—‘you cannot teach old dog new tricks.’”

The hurt struck her chest so hard she sucked in a breath, the feeling tearing right through her heart and blossoming out her back like an exit wound. Was it anger? No, anger was something V felt in her hands. She would clench them and squeeze, rub her thumb across the back of her curled fingers to try and ground herself and push back the rapid pulsing in her head.

This wasn’t that.

Her hands had gone slack if anything, loose and useless at her sides. A tingling sensation drew across her fingertips, not to rub and worry her palm but to touch… to touch  _ him. _ God, V wanted to touch him. She wanted to hold his face in her hands and cry and shake him and say  _ no _ . No, no,  _ no. _

And she didn’t know why. She had no words to convey  _ why _ .

Takemura watched her, eyes half-lidded and  _ distant _ , even as he seemed to regard her carefully. His grey eyes sped a quick trip across her, taking in her body language no doubt before assessing the expression she wore on her face for only a short moment.

What was her expression, she wondered? She couldn’t feel it. She felt like her lips might be parted, her shoulders slackened and her eyes watching him the same way he was watching her.

Someone needed to say something or someone needed to leave, but that choice was quickly removed as the quiet of the valley was struck through by a piercing scream. The sound of harsh voices, of quickly moving bodies and shouts erupted from outside the tent.

Eyes alert, Takemura and V exchanged one terse look, a single nod of acknowledgement coming from the older man before they both rushed from the confines of the tent and out into the chaos that had taken over the nomad camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, no one really thought Arasaka would give up chasing the nomads THAT easy, right?


End file.
